


It Was Only A Matter Of Time

by IneffableMoon



Category: Good Omens, Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: After the Apocoh-No-You-Didn’t, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Because I’m too shy to let anyone read this before I shove it out of my way and into the world, Friendship between the Armageddon Gang, Grief, Major character death - Freeform, Michael is Mean, Mourning, Multi, Not Beta Read, but only alluded to and loosely described, character in pain, kind of?, there’s no graphic death scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 12:33:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableMoon/pseuds/IneffableMoon
Summary: After Armageddon didn’t happen, Crowley and Aziraphale grew closer to Anathema, Newt, and the Them. They had been hoping that Heaven and Hell wouldn’t come knocking on their door... but you don’t always get what you hope for.





	It Was Only A Matter Of Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Good Omens work, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Yes, it’s another “oh no, Heaven and Hell is after them!” Fic, but I think it’s cool that all of us have different ideas for what exactly that means. Hopefully this idea hasn’t been done before!
> 
> I tried to make Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship status somewhat vague. If you see them as best friends, that’s what they are here. If you see them as ineffable husbands, that’s what they are here. I personally love them as both, so I wanted to include both!!

It was only a matter of time. Armageddon had been stopped, the world was still in tact. But two supernatural beings had the forces of Heaven and Hell pitted against them;

And one of them had been taken.

**__________**

Crowley had been with the Them when it happened. He and Aziraphale had been visiting Tadfield for the day, to catch up with Newt, Anathema, and the kids. 

_“Come on, won’t you do it again?” It’s brilliant!” Adam pleaded, after he and his friends had watched the Serpent of Eden shift from human to snake multiple times, only growing more fascinated with each transformation._

_“It is, actually, quite amazing.” Wensleydale agreed, his eyes bright with amusement. “But I think I want to learn how to hiss like that.”_

_Crowley just grinned, leaning lazily against a tree in the Thems hideout as he let out a hiss, for the sake of the childrens amusement. He loved being around the group;_ _he had always liked kids, they were so curious and eager to learn. The Them in particular, always loved to hear new facts or learn new tricks._

_“I can do it again later,” he promised, “if I do it anymore I’ll be afraid that I’ll forget to change back. I can certainly teach you lot how to hiss, though, that’ll really freak your parents out, huh?”_

_The Them nodded excitedly, always being ones for a bit of mischief. Their faces fell, however, when Crowley froze, his breathing stopping. Not that he needed to breathe. _

_As if he had just been injured, he sharply fell to the ground, curling in on himself, his arms clutched to his chest. A pained expression was painted across his face, visible even through his dark glasses. It was the pain he felt when something was terribly, terribly wrong._

_“One of us should get a grown up, I think he’s having a heart attack—“ Brian started in a panic, being interrupted by Pepper._

_“—he can’t _have_ heart attacks, he’s a _demon_,” She said, as she stepped back from Crowley, trying to assess the situation. She noticed, that Adam too, had froze. Though he didn’t seem to be in pain at all, he seemed to be focused, as if he were hearing a distant sound._

_“Something’s wrong,” The golden haired boy said, though his three companions felt that what he said was quite obvious, considering their newfound mentor was on the ground writhing in pain, and none of them knew what was happening._

_“I think that’s quite obvious,” Wensleydale pointed out with a frown, not taking his startled gaze off of Crowley._

_“No, I’m not talking about him. I mean, he feels that something’s wrong. I do too, I just don’t know what.” Adam corrected, breaking his frozen posture to look to his friends._

_“‘S Aziraphale,” Crowley sputtered, as he tried to push himself up. “He’s in trouble, lots of it.” _

_He shakily stood up, his arms still tightly wrapped around himself. “We have to go back.” He said sternly, as he made his way out of the woods (struggling greatly, but he did his best), towards Jasmine Cottage. Aziraphale had stayed there for tea with Newt and Anathema, who had settled there just recently. _

_As the kids helped him along, all five spotted a figure made of dark blue heading towards them, as well as another figure behind the first. It didn’t take long for the Them and Crowley to recognize the figures as Newt and Anathema._

_ “There you are,” Anathema exclaimed through a sigh of relief. “I don’t know what happened, Aziraphale was just... taken away. By a man in a grey suit, he had brown hair. There were a few others, I noticed a woman with dark skin, a stout man, and another woman with a fancy hairdo.” She continued breathlessly, only becoming more worried when a look of both panic and horror crossed Crowley’s face. _

_“The archangels. Gabriel, Sandalphon... I don’t know the others, probably Uriel and Michael.” He murmured, curling into himself again as another flash of pain was sent through his body. _

_How the hell was he supposed to save Aziraphale this time? He was a demon, he couldn’t get into Heaven. If he did, he’d probably be splashed with holy water before he could even reach Aziraphale. _

_He would try to think of something, and quickly_.

**__________**

Not much planning had been done, before a horrible pain ripped through Crowley’s body, sending him to the ground again. This time, after convulsing briefly, he had blacked out. The pain had been absolutely overwhelming, as was the impact of his head hitting the ground. 

He woke up in a bed, surrounded by six people. The Them, Anathema, and Newt. They all looked incredibly concerned, and confused. 

“Ugnk—“ Crowley mumbled, finding that his head was hurting like a bugger. He knew for a fact that it wasn’t a migraine or headache... demons didn’t get those. What he did know, is that this is the pain he got when something had gone terribly wrong, at least in his eyes. There were only a few other times he had experienced this amount of pain throughout his years.(excluding his Fall).

But even then, those times weren’t as bad as the pain he felt now. Then, it had been a feeling of ‘something has gone wrong, it’s going to get worse’. Now, it was a feeling of ‘something has gone wrong, it can’t get worse’.

But oh, it got worse.

He felt a vibration in his pocket, and tiredly fished his phone out, knowing that if he got a notification, it was an important one. 

“Is it Aziraphale?” Anathema asked gently, though the worry in her voice was evident, especially to Crowley, who was naturally good at detecting such thing.

“No, he doesn’t use modern technology. Farthest he goes is a computer.” Crowley replied, his face falling as he read the notification. 

There wasn’t an unknown number in place, and there wasn’t a proper contact name. Instead, there was a sigil. One Crowley recognized to belong to the Archangel Michael. 

Along with it, was one attachment, and the message short enough to read through just the notification. 

_“We found out, and thought you deserved closure.”_

“Who is it? Or is it just an app update?” Newt said, not sure exactly what a demon would be getting notified about. A new method of torture, perhaps?

“Someone I haven’t seen in a long time.” Crowley replied vaguely, as he felt the pain grow. He shakily got up, mumbling a ‘give me a moment’ as he left the room, feeling himself actually getting nervous about what this text might contain. The message along with it was eerie enough, and he just hoped it was some sort of practical joke. 

Although, he knew Michael wasn’t one for jokes.

Hesitantly, he opened up the text, and was immediately met with a video attachment. He pressed play, and was horrified to see the sight of Aziraphale, and fire angrily swirling about. His angel, from a distance, looked determined, but Crowley had known him for a long time. He could tell that Aziraphale was petrified.

The sight he saw next was more than heartbreaking. He watched Aziraphale step into the fire, after being told to do so by a gleeful Gabriel. 

Crowley wanted to stop the video, spare himself the trauma. But he also was frozen in shock, and part of him wanted to make sure this was real, and not a cruel trick.

The scream of agony, and sparks flying from the fire told him that this was unpleasantly real. 

The video fell silent, as the fire went calm again. He could see a pile of fabric slowly burning away. The camera turned to Michael, who looked disturbingly pleased.

“I’m afraid it had to be done. But don’t worry, you’ll be going quite soon.” 

And that’s where the video stopped. 

He was hardly aware that his phone had been angrily thrown at the wall, with an inhuman strength that caused the whole phone to shatter, as well as the wall to crack. He hadn’t even realized that he had let out a strangled scream, which was practically torn from his throat. All he knew, was that in his shock, he had ended up slumped over on the ground, his knees pulled to his chest. His face was buried in his hands, and he was sobbing. 

Aziraphale was dead, and he hadn’t been there to stop him from being killed. If he had been there, he might have been able to fight the Archangels off, maybe even bargain with them. 

Oh, who was he kidding? The Archangels were merciless, they still would have taken Aziraphale. They probably would have taken him, too, and made him watch the event in person.

At least he would have been there for Aziraphale.

The thought of his angel dying alone absolutely broke him, almost more than the mere thought of Aziraphale being gone. 

This was certainly worse than when he had thought Aziraphale was killed in the fire at his bookshop. Then, Crowley hadn’t seen him die, only assumed. 

But seeing the one being you loved most be completely and utterly destroyed, while there was nothing you could do to stop it... well, that was something simply unbearable. 

**__________**

“What was that?” Newt asked in a panic, as a loud crash rang through the cottage. He only became more worried as a scream pierced the air. He was lucky it hadn’t made his ears bleed.

“Everyone stay behind me.” Anathema ordered, in a tone that made it clear she wasn’t open to arguments. She headed out of the bedroom door, in the direction Crowley had gone. She was rushing, scared that he was being taken, too. 

She hadn’t expected to see the sight in front of her.

An absolutely demolished phone at the end of the hall, glass shards spread across the floor. A large, and very noticeable crack in the wall. A demon on the ground, in complete despair. 

She wasn’t sure how to comfort a demon... what exactly did they find comforting? A paper with a pentagram drawn on it? A goat? A stuffed animal that said ‘hail Satan’ when you squeezed it? 

She remembered what Aziraphale had told her and Newt, when the man had been fretting about the very fact that Crowley was a demon, of all things. 

_“My dear fellow, the thing you must understand about Crowley, is that he most certainly isn’t your typical demon. First of all, he doesn’t like to kill unless he absolutely has to. And well, don’t tell him I said this, but deep down he really is a nice person.”_

The note had been taken, Crowley wasn’t like the typical demons Anathema had read about in fantasy books. He probably wouldn’t be comforted by pentagrams, goats, and Satan-worshiping plushies. So, she had settled on getting down to his level, and gently placing a hand on his shoulder. She decided to treat him just as she’d treat a human in this state. 

“Anthony,” She said softly, realizing he hadn’t even noticed her presence. “Crowley?” She tried again, though that didn’t catch his attention, either.

“Mr. Crowley, is everything alright? I’m sure we’ll find Mr. Fell...” Adam piped up.

That caught Crowley’s attention. He looked up, briefly glancing to Anathema’s hand on his shoulder, seemingly surprised to see the gesture being made. 

“We can’t find him,” he spat, pushing his currently crooked sunglasses up so he could look to Adam.

“He’s dead. They killed him—they...” his voice trailed off, as he took a deep breath. He wanted to try to gain his composure, just for the sake of the kids watching him fall apart.

“I didn’t think angels could be killed,” Newt said, both his expression and tone blank. He had felt his heart drop at the words Crowley spoke, but he wanted to be able to believe that it wasn’t true. 

“‘S hard to. If he’s shot, or run over, or something of the sorts; he’s discorporated. His body is destroyed, not his being. Same goes for me. Hellfire destroys both. Holy water is what does that to me.”

He wanted to both scream, and cry. He wanted to curse the Almighty, to beg for some way to get his angel back. But he also wanted to make sure the kids didn’t have to see him absolutely lose his temper. 

“Can’t you get him back?” Anathema asked weakly, she too not wanting to take Aziraphale being dead as the truth. He was a supernatural being... he shouldn’t be able to die so easily.

“He was saying you can perform miracles and—“

“—I can’t revive the destroyed.” Crowley murmured, his voice cracking on the last word. Aziraphale really was gone... he had been  destroyed .

For fucks sake, that was such a strong word. It hurt.

The room was quiet, everyone was on the verge of tears. Pepper had pulled her three friends into a group hug, though she tried to keep her own emotions in.

So did the three boys, but all four of the Them had tears slipping down their cheeks.

Newt was staring at the ground, biting his lip. His eyes were watery too, but he didn’t dare let any tears escape.

Anathema too, tried to hold in her own tears. All she could do, was pull Crowley, who was once again sobbing, into a hug.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Usually, Crowley wouldn’t let himself be so vulnerable. But this wasn’t any usual occasion. 

He clung to Anathema and buried his face in her shoulder, his hands gripping the fabric of her shirt. He was the only one who allowed himself to freely cry, as all seven of them mourned in their own way.

**__________**

Crowley had very briefly considered relocating to Alpha Centauri... but couldn’t bring himself to go there without Aziraphale. 

He had considered going back to his flat, and he almost had... but Anathema had insisted he stay with her for a while. She didn’t want him to have to be alone.

Turns out, he only stayed with her for half an hour.

** __________**

Once he had gotten out of his initial shock, Crowley had fixed the wall and cleaned up the shattered glass. All seven of them moved to the living room, where they tried to carry out a conversation centred around Aziraphale, to fill the hole his death had left. 

They were all devastated, so idle conversation really wasn’t possible. 

While he was trying to talk about the time Aziraphale had gotten himself locked up during the French Revolution, the pain returned, although it wasn’t the same pain as before.

That feeling, he had come to realize, had been so excruciating because he had been feeling Aziraphale die. 

This, though, was the usual ‘something bad is about to happen’.

He was also sensing evil in the air.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, being the only one who managed to pick up on the slight tension of Crowley’s posture. 

“Demons,” Crowley replied simply, as he stood up, pulling each of the Them into a hug, one by one. He did the same with Newt and Anathema. He knew exactly why there were demons here, and he knew that he couldn’t stop them from getting to him. It would be best to approach his fate with his head held high.

With style.

He snapped his fingers to produce a pen and paper, quickly writing down a note with the address to his flat, along with the message of

“Take what you wish, please take care of the plants.” He left it on the table, and looked up at the incredibly baffled group of humans.

“I’m not going to be able to stop them from playing ‘dunk the serpent’, so you won’t be seeing me again.” He told them, as two of keys appeared on the table, beside the note. “That one’s for my car—you saw it parked outside.” He told them, gesturing to the first key. “That one’s for my flat.” He added, gesturing to the second.

“Crowley, you’re not actually—“ Newt started, but stopped talking as the demon shook his head.

“What am I supposed to do, tell them today’s not a good time?” He asked, as the sound of banging came from the door, along with the call of his name. “I’ve had over six thousand years. This was bound to happen sooner or later.” 

He stretched his arms out and shrugged, as the sound of a door being bust down filled the cottage.

Another call of his name.

It was quite unfortunate that Anathema had taken down the horseshoe upon his own arrival. If she hadn’t, maybe the demons wouldn’t have broken her door.

“I’m sorry, it can’t be avoided.” He took his glasses, placing them down on the table as well. Something for him to be remembered by.

“The least I can do is not give them the satisfaction of watching me kick and scream.”

**__________**

The death of Anthony J Crowley was quick. He had been informed that Dagon and Michael had figured the switch out, after conducting a few experiments of their own. 

And then he got into the tub. 

**__________**

Something surrounded him, something warm and loving. He couldn’t help but lean into it, even though he didn’t know what it was.

As his eyes opened, the first thing he noticed was bright white wings, that seemed to either be reflecting light, or producing light on their own. He couldn’t tell.

The second thing he noticed, was pale blue eyes looking down at him, and a familiar smile that told him everything he needed to know. 

“You bastard,” Crowley choked out, as he pulled Aziraphale into a tight hug, finding himself crying for the third time that day. “I thought you were gone, I—“ he cut himself off, realizing this was all too good to be true. Was he still in the tub? Was this a vision flashing before his eyes as he died.

“I spoke to God, dear boy.” Aziraphale said softly, running his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “I found myself in front of them right after I was destroyed. I was told that we weren’t supposed to die, that it wasn’t in the ineffable plan. We were given this, a plane of existence of our own. A sort of apology, I assume. We’ll finally be left alone.”

“Wha—“ Crowley said, clearly being rendered practically speechless. What was he supposed to say? He was distracted with the overwhelming joy that his angel was here, and that he was  _real_ . Now he was being told that he too, was not truly dead, and that he would be allowed a peaceful eternity with Aziraphale.

With that, however, he was also being told that he’d never get to be amongst humanity again. That was surely a major inconvenience.

But he didn’t want to focus on that right now. He had gotten Aziraphale back, and that’s all that mattered. He held the angel tighter, and whispered a thank you. Both of them knew exactly who he was thanking.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, Comments to tell me what you thought (or just to say hi) are tremendously appreciated!!
> 
> If anyone would like, I might add a chapter to this that goes in depth of what Aziraphale and Crowley’s deaths looked like. I have some ideas, so if anyone is interested, make sure to tell me!
> 
> ** You can find me at @iineffablemoon on Tumblr! **


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